


Proper goodbye

by Bathilda



Series: Proper goodbye [1]
Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-19
Updated: 2011-09-19
Packaged: 2017-10-23 21:07:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/254980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bathilda/pseuds/Bathilda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Doctor gets a chance to say a proper goodbye to Rose.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Proper goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> It’s short, very sketchy and unbetaed (in other words, a stream of consciousness), but I always thought that Rose deserved a proper “saying goodbye” to her Doctor. That’s how I think it could be; set after The Doctor's Wife.

He’s not a human being, but his companions tend to forget about it. He flies a TARDIS which looks like a blue police telephone box, he travels through time and space, he has superior brains, but more often than not his companions see only his very human appearance and thus expect human emotions and reactions from him. Sometimes that… well, yes, irritates the Doctor. Typically human emotion. He is the last of the Timelords, and now, more than ever, he wants to be treated, at least sometimes, like one. Would it then be easier _not_ to feel these human emotions, emotions like sadness, and grief, and others? Like melancholy he’s feeling now, after his human TARDIS has died and left an old control room, previously hidden, open. The Doctor hasn’t thought about “good old days” for a long time, not intentionally, just… past was past and should stay in past. No point in dwelling upon it. Only that now he’s suddenly caught in an onslaught of long forgotten memories and feelings. Well, not exactly forgotten – he doesn’t forget anything, – but buried, stored away in distant corners of his brain.

He had a lot of companions and he remembers them all, he thinks of them fondly and with a hint of nostalgia, and he was sure that he’d feel the same towards absolutely all his companions, former and future, regardless of what they went through together. He was wrong. So now here is, sitting on the grater with his back to the console and missing Rose, Donna and Martha. And Jack. And Mickey, and even – oh, Universe, you didn’t hear it! – Jackie. He misses them so fiercely as he never missed anyone, except, maybe, his people, Susan, and Romana, and the Master. His friend Master, not megalomaniac Master. The Doctor knows that he can, of course, visit Martha and Mickey (married! who could have thought!), even if it wouldn’t be the same, ‘cause he’s not the Doctor they once knew. But still, he can go and see them, he can even find Jack, though his presence nearby makes Doctor’s consciousness, his very essence, itch and twist. He will never see Rose again and will never talk to Donne like before, and it hurts. Why does it hurt so much?

 

_The sun and the moon, the day and night… but why do they hurt?_

He hoped his new regeneration wouldn’t be like that, but now it seems that Rose and Donna will be for a while (hopefully not always) his not yet healed wound. The Doctor wondered what they would say about this regeneration? Donna’d probably say that there’s no difference, he’s just as skinny as he was before, and his hair’s almost the same. Rose… The Doctor’s sure that she’d get used to him. Her new-new-new Doctor.

The TARDIS is humming quietly as usual while the Doctor is remembering. She wishes she had more time in human body – she has so much to say to the Doctor. Psycho-empathic communication is better than nothing, but words, real words are better, as it turned out. Right now the TARDIS’d tell the Doctor that she misses them too. She misses times when she could feel another TARDISes and another Timelords, their mental voices and signatures were a constant, something eternal and natural. Now they’re replaced with nothingness, and she has only the Doctor, and the Doctor has only her. The TARDIS also misses Rose; after all, once they were the one, and though Rose brutalized her, looked in her heart, she did it to save her – their – Doctor.

And now, after being a human, the TARDIS thinks that it’s time. The lights in the corridor leading to the rooms flicker twice – enough to draw Doctor’s attention.

“What is it, girl?” rising to his feet, asks the Doctor and caresses the console.

The lights flicker again, and the humming of the TARDIS grows a bit louder. The Doctor stops at the beginning of the corridor as if not daring to go where the TARDIS wants him to.

“Alright, alright,” says he with a slight pout, “I’m going. But you redecorated! I thought these rooms are long gone!”

The neutral tone of the humming changes into a bit irritated. The TARDIS is _very_ spacious, thank you very much, and keeps the rooms of all her inhabitants and guests. Except for the Master’s, of course.

The first door in the corridor leads to Martha’s room. Light-blue and grey walls and bedding, big armchair, a book lying on its seat – everything is neat and clean. The Doctor closes the door without entering the room. He has already said his goodbye to her, no need for another one. He passes Mickey’s room not even looking at its door, slows his steps in front of Jack’s room, hesitatingly lifts a hand to the doorknob, but then shakes his head and turns away. Jack’s fate terrifies him. To be  a fixed point in time and space, to live hundreds, thousands of years not changing physically and not be able to die, to end his days as a Face of Boe. Definitely not something the Doctor would wish for himself (or anyone else for that matter), but taking in consideration his own extended lifespan and tendency to get into potentially life-threatening situations and gain enemies… well, he didn’t want to end his days in a cage – again! – or in a jar.

Donna’s room is as bright and crazy as Donna herself. Jewelry, souvenirs and clothes from the worlds they visited and a lightly bitter aroma of her perfume, still lingering in the room. The Doctor stands in the middle of a room for a while with his eyes closed, immersed in his memories.

In Rose’s room (walls, some things and bedding in different shades of pink) clothes are strewn across the floor, the bed is unmade and… and Rose is sitting on it.

“Hi.”

She says it with her usual wide smile, and Doctor’s hearts do something anatomically impossible – first they sink to his stomach, then leap into his throat so that the Doctor can’t utter a word.

“You can’t be here, it’s impossible,” he croaks.

Timelords can hallucinate, but the Doctor is fairly sure that he hasn’t taken or done anything, that could cause hallucinations. The TARDIS hums soothingly – can a hallucination or a dream be so real and detailed? Yes, in fact, it can, the Doctor knows that, but he, illogically and unreasonably, prefers to hope that what he sees is really Rose. But he doesn’t dare to approach her and find out. The Doctor thinks that he should take the screwdriver and examine Rose, but instead he keeps standing still and stares at her. She looks… the memories flashes before Doctor’s eyes: years ago he already saw her looking and dressed like that, and he suddenly understands everything. Almost everything Understands, but not quite believes.

Rose hops from the bed and says with a grin:

“You’re not the only one who’s good with goodbye holograms.”

“How..?” The question is almost rhetorical.

“I’m the Bad Wolf, I create myself,” says Rose in a low voice. The Doctor sees flashes of gold in her eyes and it’s an explanation per se. “It’s sooo strange…” She shakes her head as if she has water in the ears. “I’m Rose and TARDIS and Vortex at the same time, and right now I’m standing in front of you killing Daleks, and also looking at the Universe, at its birth and death, and I’m recording this hologram as well. It’s confusing. And it hurts. Thanks for taking it out of me, by the way,” she grins again and shrugs. “All of it, including the memory of the fact that it was actually me who killed you.”

“That wasn’t you,” he informs her, though she can’t hear him. Doctor’s hand twitches in attempt to reach out and take Rose’s hand. He hasn’t done it for a long time, but the reflex is still there. “Not your fault and I’d do it again if necessary. I’m alive and you didn’t die, so I say that’s a win-win”

Again – typically human words and reaction, but it’s the truth. She gives him a half-smile as if she’s heard him.

“Anyway, I’m glad that you’ll do it… did it – time travelling and time-seeing really messes with my tenses – but that’s not what I want to tell you. And don’t interrupt me. Not that you can do it, but still. I want to say something properly, Doctor, without interruptions, lost connections or running away. Now: Doctor, I love you. I fell for you the first time you took my hand, even with Dumbo ears, and nose, and eyes of an Oncoming Storm, and I will always love you. And it’s not just words – I can see everything, all that is, all that was, all that ever could be. I know what I’m talking about and I wanted you to know that,” she smiles and blushes. “You know that already, of course, you always knew, but I wanted you to hear it.”

“Rose Tyler, I love you,” answers the Doctor. He couldn’t tell it to her face in the past, but now it came out easily. He told the truth, he loved her then, all ears, nose and bitterness, and later, when he wore pinstripe suit, and he loves her now, only now it’s a bit different kind of love, but love nonetheless.

Rose’s eyes are bright and warm, and she looks right at him like she really sees him. The Doctor comes closer and there is nothing he wants more than to hug her.

“I don’t expect an answer,” she adds. “Well, I wouldn’t hear it anyway, but you get what I mean. I know.” She seems embarrassed, her cheeks are pink, and she licks her lips and clears her throat before continuing: “It drives me mad, and it’s not fair. I mean, I see what will be, what’ll happen to me and to you, to everyone, and I can’t say a word, can’t warn you! Urgh, how do cope with it?” she pauses and frowns. “I have little time. What an irony: at the moment I’m time itself, but I’m running of it. It looks so easy in films – to say or write last words that are always wise and right, but I don’t know what to say. I’ll try, though. You did everything right. That doesn’t mean that I – me future, parallel-world-me – am not mad with you for leaving without goodbye, but I understand and forgive you. And as for everything else – you also did everything right, and I forgive you for what you can’t forgive yourself, even when there is nothing to forgive.” Now her eyes are sad, so sad, but there are no tears in them, only swirls of liquid yellow fire. “Now, here are my words of wisdom: get into troubles like you always do, run for your life and save lives – and everything will be just fine.” Sadness transforms into mischief, and the Doctor is sure that his grin matches hers. A second later Rose rubs her forehead and winces from pain. “Guess my time is up. Okay, yeah, I know I’m not supposed to tell you anything about your future, but there is one thing that I can tell you and it won’t cause any problems.”

The Doctor opens his mouth to protest, but quickly realizes that it won’t work.

“Doctor,” begins Rose solemnly, “remember and beware: you will never ever have a companion who will follow your ‘don’t wander off’ rule!”

She smiles and giggles, carefree, like she used to during their most hilarious adventures, and the Doctor feels that weight, which he was unaware of, lifts from his heart.

“I think I can survive this,” he grumbles, “I have a huge experience with wandering off and jeopardy friendly companions.”

The Doctor almost expects Rose to smile at that, but, of course she can’t hear him (then again, she sees everything that was and will be, perhaps she sees him listening to her, but the Doctor doubts that). Instead she sighs, says mournfully: “Goodbye, my Doctor,” and disappears. The Doctor doesn’t even have time to react when she reappears.

“Oh, by the way, take Amy and Rory to Barcelona, bet they’ll like dogs with no noses. And don’t forget about that red bicycle.”

And she disappears again, this time forever. Unlike the smile on Doctor’s face.

 

* * *

 

“Where to next?” asks Amy when the Doctor enters the control room. Their control room, not the old one.

Amy thinks that he hasn’t seen such a bright smile on his lips for a long time which is strange, considering what happened to the TARDIS and his brooding for the last two days.

“Barcelona,” he answers cheerfully. “I have it on good authority that you’ll like it here. But first… Amy, Rory:  Earth, England, 21st century – do you know where I can get a red bicycle for a very special little girl?”

Neither Amy, nor Rory is surprised at the question. This is the Doctor and they’re in TARDIS – even stranger things are said and happen here.

 


End file.
